Because Sometimes It's Just For Me...

It's mid-September and my new-to-me sailboat is still in the water. The little boat that started off as a disappointment, "consolation prize" boat, has really grown on me throughout the summer. Hell, it was my house for a few days! I love my boat.

I moved back to Alpena for several reasons, some known to me, some not and discovered later. Having my own boat and sailing again was one of the known reasons.

I missed having my own boat. It's a luxury but that's ok. It's a place of solace. Well, it is in between buying new parts, installing said new parts and cleaning places the old parts covered. Some people don't care how their boat looks. I am not some people. I have a TON of work to do to this old girl in the off season. The key part of the previous statement is 'OFF'. My friend Matt said, "Put the tools down and sail!" He tends to be right about such things.

The weather was picture perfect on Saturday. Shorts and t-shirt were all that was required for this sail. Well, flip flops to get to the boat but THEN shorts and t-shirt were all that was required.

The breeze was super light in the morning. Not a cloud in the sky. People were noisily talking as they walked out the breakwall. I wish people understood how far sound travels across water. The voices didn't bother me, more the content of the conversations. I sure hope that couple that didn't start the walk as a couple but were probably going to be a couple after she let him know that she was pregnant find a way to a good life together. The guy that had to talk on speaker phone about one of his two asshole dogs having worms? Yeah, him? Not so much him...

I started the outboard motor to let it warm up. I should say, I pulled on that damn starter rope enough to push the boat WELL out of the marina. It has run flawlessly since I put a new carb on it. Apparently the little outboard thought it was done for the season. I fiddled with it as I cussed (very quietly) at it. It finally let me win the battle of wills. More on that soon...

I rigged the main and took the sail cover off. I untied the sail ties and stashed them below. Port side (left side) just like on all my former boats. Old habits die hard. Almost as hard as little outboard motors roar to life.

The motor was well warmed up. I rigged a makeshift spring line and untied the boat from the dock. There is a procedure that must be followed when sailing solo. It minimizes cusswords of a louder volume and perhaps some crunching of boat fiberglass against dock wood. (The dock always wins, if you were wondering...) All sounds that carry VERY well across the water.

I let the spring line loose and was away. I always figured letting loose of the dock was similar to an astronaut leaving the command module. No tether. No gravity. No Earth beneath your feet. Sailing is my way to leave planet Earth for a short time. It's a surreal feeling that probably won't fade until years after I am too bent up by time to feel.

Reverse. The little-motor-that-could responded by backing my command module out of its slip. The efficiency of a sailboat hull is really quite something. They move effortlessly and coast forever. Safely away from the confines of my slip, I shifted into forward and headed out to sea. Mostly...

People on the breakwall were watching my freshly washed little boat motor its way to the mouth of the harbor. Destination: Thunder Bay. I waved because boat people wave. "Because it's nice." (A Dad quote I included in "The Thawing Man" book.) We were all at the water's edge because it has a draw like no other. It is a common bond that makes waving to a stranger feel as natural as waving to friend.

Waving obligations fulfilled, I goosed the little outboard, asking for a bit more speed. I didn't "give 'er the berries" like we used to say on the way to or from the race course but the saying crossed my mind and I smiled. Until my non-berried motor quit. Dead. The sound of silence is welcome when sails are up and you are making way. NOT when you have rocks on all sides and with little momentum.

Go main. Get the sail up, sail out of the marina and worry about that POS motor when I am WELL out to sea. The main was rigged and ready so up on the halyard. Halyard is the fancy word for "rope that pulls the sail up". Saying "halyard" justifies the cost of the fancy rope. Kind of.

I started pulling on the halyard and up the main sail went. Right until it stopped. Suddenly. And only about half way up. It's a small sail on a small boat. It wasn't helping much but it was helping some. The fancy rope found a way to wrap its fancy ass around a navigation light half way up the mast. I have NEVER had that happen on ANY boat. No big deal. Some forward motion was maintained so back to the little bastard motor. Wait a second...what is that in the cockpit? Dirt? Where did a clump of dirt come from out here? I boarded my boat with bare feet.

Oh...I see now...

It's a mud wasp nest. They seem to be as surprised as me. Perhaps slightly more upset...

Main sail stuck...motor dead...mud wasps waking up...the romantic pursuit of sailing...

I tossed the nest overboard as if it were a live grenade. I suppose it was now that I think about it.

The little useless, stinky, dirty, old, piece of shit motor would...not...f*$#ing start. Amazing how that cute little beauty can change appearance based on its utility. Such is life, right?

I squeezed the primer bulb. Choked and unchoked it. The motor, not the boat owner.

It sputtered. And again! Two sputters is the signal that internal combustion is pending!

A ragged but continually improving sound coughed out of that beautiful little gem of a motor! I gave 'er the berries and got out into the lake. Like OUT into it. The waves were just enough to help me get the main halyard unwrapped from its favorite navigation light and I could finally "go main". Outer space was within reach.

Main up and tied off, I let the breeze take over and the pristine gorgeous-ness of an outboard shut off and take a break. (You better start again you little motherf#@*er...)

It was NOT a standard start to a sail. I've had that thing in and out multiple times. This day was full of tests. I was struggling even as I made my way across the bay in perfect silence. There was dirt all over the boat from those now submariner wasps. I didn't have the lines cleaned up. Things weren't perfect and my snack was down below!!!

After a few minutes of replaying how things went and how they could have gone, I relaxed. I tied the tiller and grabbed my snack and a water. Life was good. I pushed play on my sailing playlist that is oddly bereft of any Jimmy Buffet, and set a course for "over there".

It was a glorious day spent in outer space.

Why on Earth did I share this story with you? Because I haven't shared any of my other sailing adventures with you. I am flattered and humbled by how many people have asked if I have been out sailing or if I went out on such and such day. This year I have become a bit more selfish with my "stuff". My move back to Alpena has been a great experience, but not perfect. Sailing on my boat has been "mine". I shared this story because I thought you all would like it and it would give you a laugh. And because it could be "ours" while I still got to keep some of "mine".

I try to share the things I think might be helpful of entertaining. This summer I've kept some things from you all.

Because sometimes it's just for me...

Stay sturdy.